One-Way Ticket
by Waywardist
Summary: Castiel can go back to Heaven, get his Grace back, live happily ever after - on one condition: once you enter Heaven, you can never come back.


They had finally done it. They did it. They managed to get all of the angels successfully back into Heaven, and they finally got Castiel's grace back, but with a price; once you got to Heaven, you could never get out. Almost all of the angels accepted that price; they had had enough of earth for the rest of eternity and were happily looking forward to spending the remainder of their eternal days cruising the white plains of Heaven. But they hadn't asked Cas yet. In fact, Dean had been almost avoiding it, hoping he could somehow delay the inevitable. That was so unlike him—he was so used to just embracing the inevitable, nearly speeding it up, but for once he wished everything could just slow down. Dean had been delaying telling Castiel for so long that Sam was the one that called him up at the gas station; Dean wondered how long he could have avoided it if Sam hadn't called.

But now, standing in the doorway and looking at Castiel sitting there by himself, Dean knew there was no use in wondering anymore. There was no use in wishing for the past. The sting of bitter irony hit Dean like a heavy torrential wave, causing him to smile bitterly, humorlessly. That very spot where Castiel sat at the table was the spot where Dean last told him he had to go, that he couldn't stay there anymore. And now maybe Castiel would leave forever. Dean's hand gripped the thin chord, not unlike the chord his old amulet used to hang on. But instead of an old, rustic amulet, the chord held a medium-sized vial, filled with a deep white glowing thing that gave off an oddly blue hue. Grace. Angel Grace rested in the vial Dean gripped in his hand—but more than that. It was Cas' angelic Grace. His ticket home, to his family. "Damn it," Dean muttered under his breath, too quiet for anyone but himself to hear. Why was it taking him so long to just… to just go and talk to the ex-angel? Dean sighed again, heavy and almost encouragingly, and marched himself to the table.

Castiel heard Dean's footsteps before he even got to the table, turning and looking at Dean with those sapphire eyes. Castiel stood as if sensing Dean's urgency, his mouth opening to say something, but before he could get a single word out, Dean was holding the chord loosely in his hand, holding it out to the ex-angel. "Dean?" Castiel asked, his eyebrows knitting together confusedly, focusing on the intense white Grace bottled up in the vial. "Here." Dean said gruffly, automatically despising the way he sounded—as if he regretted helping Cas. As if he regretted helping all of the other angels back into Heaven. Castiel's eyes, brighter blue than the glow of his Grace, flicked from the hunter to the vial, a determined thoughtfulness in his expression, one that Dean thought was cute—though he'd never admit it.

"Here," Dean repeated begrudgingly, nearly shoving the vial into Castiel's palm. "One-way ticket to Heaven." He muttered. Castiel hesitated slightly, taking the chord gently and smoothly from Dean's fingers. The ex-angel raised the string slowly until the vial was eye-level with him, gazing at it intently. "This is my Grace." Castiel said quietly, as though he could hardly believe it. He looked at it with a thoughtful, curious, and slightly perplexed expression, his eyes squinted and his eyebrows furrowed. "Yup. Your magic fairy potion." Dean confirmed, glancing away uncomfortably. The way Castiel hesitated was only prolonging the inevitable. It was only delaying his permanent departure, him never seeing Dean again. It was something Dean thought of every day, and it hurt more and more every day, but he never imagined it would hurt as badly as this; not as badly as looking at Cas with that homesick, lost look in his eyes and his Grace waiting in his hands.

All at once, Dean felt horribly conflicted. He didn't want Castiel to ever leave; but he certainly missed seeing Castiel happy, and as always, Dean was more than willing to put Castiel's happiness before his own. It was only a matter of time, anyway. Everyone except Sammy ended up leaving Dean, in one way or another. But Dean didn't expect this excruciating pain; it was as though he already missed the ex-angel, even though he was standing right there, inches in front of him. Even as a human, Castiel lacked personal space knowledge. The thought made Dean chuckle slightly, a smile flitting across his full lips. Castiel looked up at Dean then, startled by the soft noise, and by the gentle, melancholy look in the hunter's emerald eyes. It's as if that's all Castiel needs to make up his mind. Castiel shook his head, holding the vial out to Dean. "No," he said, firmly, and without an ounce of hesitation. Castiel thrust the necklace at Dean, forcing the hunter to take it.

"What?" Dean asked, shocked beyond belief. There was suddenly a feeling within him, a bitter seed, that already felt reasonably angry. After all that time and effort, the stubborn man didn't want to go back after all? But that feeling was rapidly replaced by the overwhelming feelings of relief, joy, and mild excitement, winded at the prospect of keeping his angel close to him on earth. Castiel would always be an angel in Dean's eyes, of course, though he would never tell anyone but Cas, and never tell him in anything other than hushed whispers. "I don't want to go. Not if it means goodbye." Castiel said, gentian blue eyes never faltering from Dean's, even as a deep flush filled his cheeks.

Dean wanted to say something, to speak to him, to not look like a frozen idiot with a vial of Grace in his hand and a dumbfounded look on his face. But no matter how hard Dean tried, he couldn't find words to express his thoughts. All he could do was slip the chord around his neck, letting the vial hang where the amulet once did against his chest, so near to his fast-beating heart. Castiel looked at Dean, eyes wide. "Dean? Are you alright?" He asked, concern laced in his tone. "You're really giving up your Grace, your mystic powers, just 'cause you don't wanna say goodbye?" Dean asked, though it as more of a confirmation than a question. Castiel flushed redder than before, glancing away for only a fleeting second. "Well, essentially, yes. I have gone through too much with you and grown too attached to ever imagine saying goodbye." Castiel muttered, "Not to mention, I'm already growing accustomed to humanity."

Dean looked at him, at the slightly shy but determined look in his eye, to the Grace, the glow faint beneath the cloth of his shirt. Dean shrugged to himself, his way of saying he accepted Castiel's words. "I'm glad you're staying, Cas." Dean said, knowing that those five words said everything he felt. Castiel looked at Dean then, a smile ghosting across his lips. "I am, too, Dean." He responded, shy and shaky, but sure and strong. Dean's smile echoed Cas', and he stooped quickly and brushed his lips against Cas' before striding off, a smile on his face and Grace around his neck. He wore it every day from then on.


End file.
